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by riyku



Series: Skam Sunday [24]
Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Even's mouth deserves its own tag, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Shotgunning, true fucking love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 15:53:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13217061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riyku/pseuds/riyku
Summary: It's the third party of the night.





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**Author's Note:**

> happy sunday! 
> 
> many, many thanks to tebtosca, my dearest fairy godmother. i've put her through the ringer this week, lemme tell you.
> 
> pardon the sap, but 2017 has been a weird year, but stumbling into the fandom and writing these boys and talking to you guys has been a huge bright spot in the middle of it all. thanks so much for putting up with me. 
> 
> happy new year, and may 2018 be kind to you. cheers!

It's the third party of the night. The first one had been a dinner thing with Even's parents, Isak in a tie that Even had knotted for him, a glass of high-class champagne and a room full of people who kept telling them how good they looked together. 

Isak had been able to lose the tie for the next one, had unbuttoned his top button, circled the rented, private room in the restaurant with Even's arm around his middle and tried to remember the names of Even's co-workers. Agreed with them when they told him that Even was kind and funny and more than a little handsome, told them that they had no idea.

Now they're at the kollektivet and Isak's back to being himself. A beer in his hand, t-shirt and and jeans and his worn-out snapback, shoes in a pile along with everyone else's inside the door. Electronica is pumping through the speakers, Eskild has brought out his pink wig for the occasion and is dancing with Even, sorta dancing _at_ him, both of them trying to drag Isak into it. The living room is packed wall-to-wall with faces Isak knows and so is the kitchen, and it's funny, how this place feels more like home now than it did back when he was actually living here. 

The song ends and before the next one starts, Even breaks away, crowds in close enough to Isak that he needs to tilt his head up to look Even in the eye. 

"Do you wanna?" Even says. He lifts his eyebrows and takes the joint out from behind his ear, taps the end of it on the face of his watch.

A pause as Isak pretends to consider, lips pursed and it makes Even rub his thumb along Isak's cheek and kiss the corner of them. Everything gets quieter, goes into soft focus. Everything except Even, who Isak always sees with sharp, pinhole clarity. A kiss to the other corner of Isak's mouth before Isak pulls him along, into the room that was Noora's then his and is now Noora's again, thumbing the door locked behind them.

"It's been a while since I was in here," Isak says, and digs into Even's pocket for the lighter, touches the flame to the tip of the joint to light it for Even, then slips the lighter back into Even's pocket.

"Smells different," Even says. He takes a long drag, and Isak is fascinated the way he always is. The shape of his lips around the joint and the hollow of his cheeks and how he holds the smoke in his mouth for a second before inhaling. The hiss of his breath between his teeth and how it deepens his voice even more as he says, "It doesn't smell like socks." A small chuckle. "Or weed."

Even holds the joint up to Isak's mouth, rolling paper slightly wet against Isak's lips and stuff like that used to gross Isak out some, but this is Even, and Even is the exception to every single one of Isak's rules. There's the burn as he sucks it in, the tickle in his throat and warm pressure in his lungs as he breathes it back out.  
The dregs of Isak's beer is sacrificed as an ashtray. A quiet hiss as Even taps the ash then takes another deep drag, a little smoke escaping his mouth and curling up. He doesn't exhale, just licks his lips and makes a c'mere gesture with two fingers. Isak lifts up on his toes and Even angles in, rubs the tip of his nose back and forth along Isak's before sealing their mouths together. His lips are soft, damp and hot and so is the hit he breathes into Isak's lungs, inching off only far enough for Isak to exhale. It makes Isak run warm, this visible evidence of something that was inside of Even was also inside of him. Breathing Even in a way that's a hint more than metaphorical.

Even skims his knuckles along Isak's jaw, a slow, lazy touch and Isak's skin lights up beneath it. The best kind of foggy pin and needles and he melts against the door, pulling Even along with him to keep him close. It's smacking into them hard, half because the stuff really is good and half because they rarely smoke anymore and their tolerance is for shit. Isak's feeling a little giddy from it. Even's eyes are going glazed and bloodshot and it only makes the blue seem that much brighter. 

The joint wasn't tightly rolled to begin with and it's burning down fast, cherry closing in on Even's fingers as he hits it again, holds it in until he can get to Isak's mouth to feed it to him, hand skidding up from Isak's chest to rest against the base of his throat.

Isak wraps his hand around the back of Even's neck, feels the knobs of his spine and the silky tickle of his hair against his knuckles and holds him there. Won't let him back away, mouths fitted together as he gives it back to Even, the two of them breathing into each other until Isak starts to see stars and his lungs begin to burn.

"Probably has one more in it," Isak says, and takes the joint from Even, heat from the cherry between his pinched fingers as he finishes it off, another hiss as he drops it into the beer can. 

A touch more force this time, as Even presses Isak's back against the door and sucks the hit out of him, gives it back only with a taste of his tongue this time, curving and sliding around Isak's. He lifts Isak's thigh, makes Isak slide his leg around him too and Isak goes light-headed. Stomach swooping, heart fluttering in Isak's chest and it reminds him of the first night and day they spent in here. Same walls and a different bed, dozing and waking up with his head on Even's chest, Even's heartbeat in his ear, tangled up in arms that finally, for the first time in Isak's life, had felt exactly right.

Even's moving against him, kissing down his throat, nuzzling at Isak's ear and Isak giggles because it tickles, the giggle drowned out by a groan when Even sinks to his knees, pushes at Isak's shirt and licks along the waistband of his jeans. He glances up at Isak, and there's a question in his expression. An answer in the thumb that Isak pries between Even's lips, the light touch of his fingers under Even's chin.

The house is getting louder and the two of them have never been really good at keeping secrets, but Isak tries to stay quiet anyhow, while Even slides his pants down to his thighs and spits on his palm, gets him fully hard then turns into a tease, traces the underside of Isak's cock with his tongue, soft little kitten licks to his slit that make Isak bite down on his lip, drop his hand to fist it in Even's hair. Push his hips up and up before Even's decided he's teased him long enough and takes him in, lets him feel the hot, slick inside of his cheek, the back of his throat. He pulls off to catch his breath and then he's back at it, mouth stretched tight around Isak's cock, fingers splayed wide on Isak's thighs, digging in.

Isak allows himself to moan when he starts to shoot, feels Even's throat clench around him as he does, spunk and spit leaking out from the corners of Even's mouth. He has to lock his knees in place as Even pulls off and jerks him through the last of it, catch the final splatters of come on the tip of his tongue, the fucked out swell of his bottom lip.

"It's almost time," Isak slurs as Even gets to his feet again, cups Isak's face with filthy, damp fingers then licks into his mouth for an even filthier kiss.

"Give me a minute." Even's trying to fix Isak's pants, tuck him back into them, clumsy fingers and clumsy brain unable to figure out his belt. 

"We have about thirty seconds," Isak tells him. Out there the countdown has started, and in here Even's pressing their foreheads together, keeping them that way. In here, Even is breathing heavy and Isak can taste himself on his exhale, bitter and salty and still smelling like weed and the only thing Isak wants to do is fall down on his knees and get Even inside of him.

"Exactly, so give me a minute." Even kisses him as the year winds down and cheers from the other room wind up. Isak threads a hand into his hair, his arm around his waist, and doesn't have to tell him keep going.

\--end

 

thanks for reading!


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